Patience
by M.K. Teirney
Summary: It was supposed to be just another diplomatic mission for the middle Pevensies. Nobody said anything about excruciatingly painful instruction in building moral character... (no OCs, no slash, no incest)


**AN: So this idea for a short (4-5 chapter) story just popped into my head over the weekend, and I wanted to try it out before I lost the enthusiasm for it. Sorry that the first chapter is mostly set-up - will get things moving next chapter. Just FYI this story takes place during the Golden Age, during Edmund and Susan's stay at King Lune's castle, but before the Rabadash incident (so, before the ending of Horse and His Boy). I don't remember this segment of the canon all that well, so please let me know if I get details wrong!**

* * *

"Honestly, Edmund, it was your idea about the roads in the first place," Susan said, opening the conversation on what she knew was not her younger brother's current favorite topic. They had to address it sooner or later, though. And right now was definitely sooner.

It was about half past six in the morning. The summer light had already dawned bright and clear, signaling another blazingly hot Archenlandian day. Thankfully, the balcony on which they sat taking their breakfast of hard-boiled eggs with creamy olive-based sauces exposed them to a bit of morning wind, and the tile floors kept her bare feet cool. It wasn't much protection from the heat though: already Susan had a sheen of light sweat on her forearms, left regrettably visible by her sleeveless cotton dress. As much as she hated allowing anyone to observe her perspiring, Susan wasn't about to layer up in this weather.

Edmund, on the other hand, appeared to have stronger reservations. They had been in Anvard for four and a half weeks, and she had never seen him without his warm tunic on, though he had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows when they were working in the Queen's flower gardens or exhibiting their prowess with their chosen weaponry for the locals. At the moment, Edmund still had the linen blanket from his bed tucked around him up to his chin, above which lingered traces of his characteristic surliness at having been woken any time before noon.

The grumpy expression which had worsened considerably at her introductory comment.

"It's not the idea that's the problem," Edmund said. "It's the damn counsel and their half a thousand rounds of oversight and negotiation - "

"I think you may be slightly overestimating the number," she laughed, but he carried on.

"We've sped through the Narnian side of the arrangements. We were ready for this project to go through ten years ago. I pushed it through our planning committee single-handedly, and how old was I then? Five, six years old?"

"Again, a bit of a numbers problem," Susan smiled as Edmund made an impatient wave of one hand from inside his blanket. "As I remember, you were more like thirteen before you finally got Ivan and the other Minotaur Lords to sign on."

"Yeah, well, Ivan would have made me wait til I turned three hundred just to prove he could. If you and Peter hadn't stepped in – "he shot her a dark look, "If even one of you would do so right now -"

"I don't regret strong-arming Ivan," she said calmly, helping herself to more of the sweet jasmine tea imported from lower Calormen. "He was our liegeman, and it was our court. But this isn't our court or our country, Ed, and if the planning committee wants to make you wait another two hundred and eighty four years before they approve the road zoning rules, I can't do anything about that."

Edmund sighed and looked out toward the balcony view, propping an elbow out of his blanket to settling his head on one hand. "Two hundred and eighty three," he commented after a moment.

"Right," Susan laughed lightly, remembering the birthday from two months ago. "Numbers isn't my strong suit either, I guess," she conceded, though it was obvious to both that she said it just to lighten the mood. Susan was wonderful with numbers and math, and proved it at every opportunity she got. One of the first things she had done when they had been installed as rulers in Narnia was set up an academy devoted to mathematical theory and discovery, open to anyone interested in higher learning. Despite the fact that it was almost solely populated by ponderous owls and a few old moose, plus a few little squirrels and bunnies who were more eager to prove themselves than advance any arithmetical causes, the academy remained one of her proudest achievements.

And Edmund's should have been the system of roads that would ease transportation and communication both within Narnia and without. The basic idea was to organize the country into a few broad sections and ensure proper policing of both the high-traffic byways and the backroads connecting villages and farms. The hold-up was in the twenty-four different Archenlandian opinions on what constituted 'proper policing'. The Calormen counsel on international cooperation had passed the legislation last year without batting eyelashes; Calormen mostly relied on sea transit anyway, and their government had been eager to get on Narnia's good side since an embarrassing incident involving blackmarket slave sales had provoked Peter's ire a few years back. The Calormens had said, and all four Narnian regents agreed, that Edmund's road plan for the international trade and safety had been a masterpiece. It was the implementation that remained a bit of a nightmare.

"I am sorry, Ed," Susan added, after that moment's reflection.

"I am too."

"Just one more week of talks, King Lune said."

"Which is what he said last week, and the one before."

"I know," she sighed. "Someday soon, though. They can't adjourn for afternoon swimming breaks during the winter, can they?"

"I don't see why they're doing it now," Edmund complained. "I mean, being notorious for ridiculous delays is one thing, but jumping into freezing cold water during what would otherwise be the most productive hours of the day is ridiculous - it's tantamount to abusing their positions -"

"Most people would just call that 'having fun', Ed."

He sighed again. "Myself, I don't see what's so fun about hypothermia."

Susan burst out laughing. This was a very familiar argument, one that neither of them one had trouble finding repartees for, since they'd been having it all summer. "Now you're the one being ridiculous! It is _not_ _cold-_"

"I have goosebumps all up and down my arms!" Edmund whined, one arm darting out of his blanket. "Look!"

"Possibly because you're secretly a cold-blooded reptile and you've never told us?" Susan said, inspecting his arm idly.

"Or possibly because Archenland summers do not compare to Calormen ones -"

"Or because your oh-so-wonderfully-hot Calormen summer last year babied you into thinking you've got to bring a blanket with you everywhere you go now -"

"Or because the weather in this part of the world absolutely despises me, regardless of season..."

Smiling, Susan placed one hand on Edmund's blanketed shoulder before heading back inside. "One more week, Ed, and then I'll step in. Promise."

"If Peter were here -"

"If Peter were here, he'd be the first one in the lake for swimming breaks," she whirled around and interrupted before he could finish. "Sorry, Ed, but you know it's true. You've just got to be patient, ok?"

He scowled at the table.

"Edmund, I said _ok_?"

"Yes, mum," he grumbled.

"That's better," Susan smirked, then made a face. "In the meantime I've got to politely smile through another day with Lady Liesa and her progeny. She somehow discovered yet another great-grandnephew whose company is apparently so good that _I won't be able to resist his chaaarms_," Susan finished with an imitative drawl.

Now Edmund smirked. "That sounds likely."

"You're welcome to attend if you want some experiential learning in how to be more patient than rocks."

"Thanks, but I'll pass," he smiled. "I have something else in mind..."


End file.
